


Glutton for Reward

by ejotter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Riding Crops, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejotter/pseuds/ejotter
Summary: “Could you…” Crowley feels ridiculous and knows he’s blushing like a human teenager, but he soldiers on. “Would you… be rough with me?” The last few words come out a near whisper, and it takes Aziraphale a moment to process the question.“Er… could you elaborate?”“You know, like…” Crowley can’t meet his eyes.Why are you embarrassed? You’re a fucking demon!“...Spanking… hair-pulling… f-flogging…”Aziraphale’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What, why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”...“It doesn’t have to be that complicated, angel. In fact, you could even think of it as a reward, if you wanted to.”





	Glutton for Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I use the word "cunt" for genitalia, please be mindful if this is something that makes you uncomfortable.

“Ah… Angel…”

“Mm…”

_ C’mon, Crowley, use your words.  _ Ah, but words are hard when you’ve got warm lips on your neck and soft hands under your shirt.

“Ngk…” Crowley shifts on the couch, ready to push Aziraphale back enough to catch his breath, but then a thick thigh presses up against his aching prick and his mind goes blank again. This isn’t completely new territory; they’ve both had their fair share of human partners over the years, without shame. But to have forged this kind of intimacy with  _ each other _ so recently, after bonding in ways only two immortal beings can, brings on a new intensity that outshadows anything else they’ve ever done.

“Lovely,” Aziraphale murmurs against Crowley’s skin, nipping the line of his jaw. He thumbs at Crowley’s nipples, nails scraping ever so slightly in a way that sends a full-body shiver through him.

“Ah-  _ Aziraphale _ —” It comes out as a whine. “I—  _ fuck. _ ”

“Yes, darling?” Aziraphale’s expression somehow straddles the line between innocent and devious.

“C-can I… I need…” Crowley closes his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath (human acts require human comforts, after all). “I have a request.”

Aziraphale pulls one hand out from under Crowley’s shirt and cups the side of his face, gazing at him with the same fondness he’s been harboring for the demon for several millennia. “Anything, dearest.”

“Could you…” Crowley feels ridiculous and knows he’s blushing like a human teenager, but he soldiers on. “Would you… be rough with me?” The last few words come out a near whisper, and it takes Aziraphale a moment to process the question.

“Er… could you elaborate?”

“You know, like…” Crowley can’t meet his eyes.  _ Why are you embarrassed? You’re a fucking demon!  _ “...Spanking… hair-pulling… f-flogging…”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What, why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Crowley looks at him again, eyebrows pinching together. “What does that have to do with anything?”  _ Nevermind the fact that doing the wrong thing is part of my job description. Or, was. _

“Well, I haven’t had much personal experience in the, er…  _ sadomasochistic arts,  _ but I do read a lot, you know, and the general consensus sees impact play as a form of sexual punishment. Even if said punishment is fabricated.”

Crowley isn’t sure whether he wants to roll his eyes or laugh, so he settles for a facepalm. “It doesn’t have to be that complicated, angel. In fact, you could even think of it as a reward, if you wanted to.”

“Oh. Really? Hmm. I do quite enjoy telling you how good you are.”

The blush that had nearly settled back into Crowley’s skin returns with full force. “Yeah, um. I’m asking because I like it, you know? To me a little pain feels good, as long as it’s not too harsh. I spent some time in Berlin in the 1920’s, before the Nazis went and cocked it all up. Learned some interesting things about myself and what I like. It’s just, you’re the first person I’ve had a chance to do any of it with in nearly a century.”

Aziraphale stares at him in wonderment, blue eyes twinkling. “You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, won’t you?”

“‘Course, angel.” Crowley can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

“Do we need a safeword?”

“Nah. Maybe at some point we’ll try a deeper sort of dom/sub experience, but right now you can take what I say at face value.”

The promise of future experimentation hangs like delicious fruit between them, and they share a look that says they plan to savor it later.

“All right, then,” Aziraphale says softly, and leans down to kiss him.

Crowley hums appreciatively into Aziraphale’s mouth, reaching up to undo the angel’s bowtie and loosen a few buttons at his collar. He barely notices Aziraphale’s hands tugging the elastic out of his now shoulder-length hair, distracted by the slick slide of Aziraphale’s tongue against his own. That is, until Aziraphale’s hands twist sharply in copper locks, drawing out an involuntary moan.

“Yesss,” Crowley hisses, relishing the wave of pleasure that trickles down his scalp. “More of that.”

“Gladly,” Aziraphale says a little breathlessly, his pupils blown wide and dark. He grips the hair at the back of Crowley’s head and pulls until the long line of his throat is exposed, latching onto a pulse point and sucking until he’s certain he’s made a mark.

“Ahh…”

“Should we move somewhere more comfortable?”

“Hnn?” Crowley blinks up at him. “Uh, probably. If my legs still work.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” says Aziraphale matter-of-factly, rising from the couch and hoisting Crowley over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Crowley yelps in surprise, impossibly aroused at the strength hidden under the angel’s softness.

“Angel!” Crowley giggles as Aziraphale hauls him to the bedroom. They’re in Crowley’s flat, and the black silk sheets he favors feel exquisite against his skin as the angel lays him gently on the bed.

Aziraphale eyes him appreciatively as he divests himself of his waistcoat and rolls up his shirtsleeves. “Tell me how you want this, love. Tell me how to make you feel good.”

Crowley’s spine goes all tingly at that. “I um… There’s a riding crop in the closet somewhere. In a box, I think.”

Aziraphale nods in understanding, and it doesn’t take him long to find the object in question. “Oh, this is quite nice, isn’t it?” He twists it in his fingers, tests the balance of it, swishes it through the air a few times, before approaching Crowley and nudging the end of it against the underside of his chin. “Take off your clothes.”

The edge in Aziraphale’s voice acts like a signal that shuts off Crowley’s higher brain functions, and all he can do is groan as he pulls the t-shirt over his head and wiggles out of his tight jeans. He hasn’t bothered with underwear today, much to Aziraphale’s obvious delight.

“I assume being on all fours is the most ideal position for this, don’t you think?”

Crowley complies instantly, burying his face in a plush mound of pillows and grinning like a loon. Aziraphale takes a moment to admire the sharp curve of Crowley’s ass, trailing his fingers over the skin and giving a few appreciative pinches to the fleshiest bits. His hand inches lower and Crowley gasps.

“Now… I haven’t done this before, so you’ll have to tell me where you’d like me to strike.” Aziraphale gives Crowley’s cock a few gentle strokes, relishing the sounds it draws from the demon. “I assume the ass is the main target, maybe the thighs… What about this?” Aziraphale nudges the crop ever so delicately against Crowley’s balls, and he freezes, thighs squeezing together.

“A-ah… erm… m-maybe not there…” He’s been kicked or elbowed there once or twice over the years, and can’t imagine finding pleasure in it. Although… “I might try something else though… hold on.”

With a bit of effort, Crowley transforms his stiff cock into a warm, wet cunt. He’s never tried it with Aziraphale, but he figures there’s a first time for everything. “Hope you don’t mind. These bits can take much more of a beating, as it were.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice is reverent, like he’s about to devour an  éclair in one bite. Crowley can hear him inhale, and the resulting moan makes Crowley unconsciously thrust his hips backward. “Dear, you smell absolutely  _ delightful. _ ”

Aziraphale reaches between Crowley’s legs again and teases the hot folds of skin just enough to draw a whimper of desire from the demon. He then pulls back and delivers a quick swat to one ass cheek with his bare hand, gripping on contact. It catches Crowley off guard, but the feeling is certainly not unpleasant.

“Was that a good amount of force?” Aziraphale asks with a pointed squeeze.

“Mm,” is all Crowley can say, but it’s enough to spur Aziraphale on. The angel unleashes a flurry of blows to Crowley’s ass and thighs, testing out different speeds and angles, gauging Crowley’s reaction. Aziraphale’s hands are soft and plump, so his spanks leave a dull ache rather than a sting. The constant motion against his body sends Crowley out of his head and into a delightful space where physical sensation is the sole focus.

“How are you doing, love?”

Crowley feels like he’s underwater and Aziraphale is trying to talk to him from the surface, but he manages a feeble thumbs-up. He feels Aziraphale’s lips skim across his skin, and then suddenly those hands are spreading him apart and a deft tongue is fucking into him.

“A-ahn,  _ fuck _ _ ,  _ a-angel, ghk—”

Aziraphale pulls back enough to ask, “Too much?”

“G-god, no, don’t stop.”

Crowley can  _ feel _ Aziraphale’s grin against his cunt as the angel resumes his ministrations. He flicks a finger or two against Crowley’s clit as he laps up the juices flowing from him, reveling in the taste. Crowley whines into the pillow, chasing the sensation with his hips. Aziraphale replaces his tongue with his fingers, then, nesting himself up against Crowley’s body so that he can curl his fingers just so. His free hand comes to rest against Crowley’s sternum, a promise:  _ I’ve got you. _

Crowley lets out a string of desperate, guttural moans as he fucks himself back against Aziraphale’s hand, clenching around him, grasping for that sweet friction that makes stars burst behind his eyelids. Aziraphale withdraws, spreading slickness across Crowley’s vulva and playing with his clit for a moment before returning with a third finger. The stretch of it is exquisite and has Crowley coming like a shockwave, locking Aziraphale in a vicegrip.

“Nnh, ‘s good, angel, so good,” Crowley pants, forcing himself to relax enough to release his lover’s fingers.

“Some lovely pelvic floor muscles you’ve got down there, darling.” Crowley laughs as he flattens out on the bed, Aziraphale’s still-clothed form hovering above him. He makes a move to flip over, but Aziraphale holds him still. “Ah ah, not done with you yet.”

Crowley had all but forgotten about the riding crop, and his stomach flips in delight as he watches Aziraphale grab it out of the corner of his eye. “Just getting warmed up, were you?”

“Thought I’d practice the old fashioned way, first,” Aziraphale answers with a grin, then lifts himself off the bed to remove the rest of his clothing. “I also thought that getting one orgasm in might heighten the sensation.”

Crowley wiggles with delight. “I love you so much.”

Aziraphale leans down and tilts Crowley’s chin up into a kiss. Crowley sighs happily, and it morphs into a moan as Aziraphale licks into his mouth and bites at his bottom lip. Aziraphale pulls away and looks at Crowley with as much fondness as he can muster. “And I love you, dearheart. More than I can ever hope to express.”

Crowley has but a moment to dwell in his sappy feelings before he feels the sharp crack of leather against his bare skin. “FUCK!” he yelps. “You truly are a mad bastard.”

Aziraphale tries very hard to fight off a fit of giggles and mostly succeeds. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Was that too hard?”

“No. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

“All right, no more teasing. Get comfortable, my dear.”

Crowley grabs a pillow and shoves it under his belly, legs spread wide, then settles back into the pile of pillows cradled in his arms. Aziraphale tries a few swats against his own thigh, testing the force of his own blows. He trails the tip of the riding crop down Crowley’s spine, then gives his ass a cursory tap before bringing it down in a swift strike. Crowley knows it’s coming this time, but it doesn’t stop the noise from escaping his lips. 

Aziraphale is much more calculated this time around, considering each spot carefully and tapping lightly in warning before each hit. His aim is precise, and the force of it is just enough to leave a pleasant sting. It’s an entirely different sensation from the quick, endless strikes of Aziraphale’s palm; there is time enough in between for Crowley to focus, to anticipate the next lash with bated breath. After a while Crowley is squirming against the sheets, the heat returning to his cunt in a way that makes him ache.

“Ah, Aziraphale, will you… touch me?” Crowley asks with a groan.

Aziraphale, bastard that he is, moves the tip of the riding crop between Crowley’s legs. “Like this?” The leather loop presses ever so gently against Crowley’s clit and drags down between his folds.

“Ngh…” It’s not quite what he needs, but Crowley can’t help but lean into the touch. Aziraphale taps the crop against Crowley’s wet labia and waits; after a moment, Crowley nods.

The angle makes it hard for Aziraphale to get much speed or force behind his strike, but it’s a different sensation than anything Crowley’s felt before and he  _ keens. _ The sound goes straight to Aziraphale’s dick, and he immediately drops the riding crop onto the floor and turns Crowley over onto his back. His knees frame Crowley’s hips as he leans in for a kiss, one arm braced next to Crowley’s head and the other cupping his jaw. 

Crowley wraps his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders, one hand tangling in white-blond curls as he moans into the angel’s mouth. The motion reminds Aziraphale of earlier in the evening, and he seizes the opportunity to grab a handful of Crowley’s hair. Crowley gasps against his mouth, pulling back to gaze up at Aziraphale with lust-dark eyes. Aziraphale scrapes his fingernails along the nape of Crowley’s neck, making his back arch.

“I love taking you apart,” Aziraphale murmurs against Crowley’s jaw, licking up the salt-sweat taste of him. He can’t help the drag of his cock against Crowley’s abdomen, leaking with want. “You’re so good for me, darling.”

“Fuck me,” Crowley begs. “Please.”

Aziraphale doesn’t need to be asked twice. He adjusts their legs so that Crowley is spread open for him, dragging a pillow under his hips. The slide of silk against the welts on his skin makes him shiver, and then Aziraphale’s hands are grabbing him and it’s almost too much. Aziraphale lifts one leg over his arm and lines himself up with the other, the head of his cock just barely pressing against Crowley’s dripping cunt.

“I assume this is where you want it? Unless you’d rather stick to our usual—”

“Yes, fuck, angel, get on with it already—”

Aziraphale presses into him slowly but firmly, and Crowley lets out a long whine. “ _ Oh _ , Crowley, you feel so good,” Aziraphale rasps, biting his lip. “So wet and slick for me…”

Hearing his angel talk like this makes Crowley’s head spin, and it’s all he can do to wrap all his limbs around him and pull him as close as possible. Aziraphale starts moving eventually, building up a steady rhythm until they’re both panting and groaning with every thrust.

Crowley feels like there’s an itch inside him begging to be scratched, and Aziraphale is  _ so close _ to hitting the right spot. “H-harder,” he manages.

Aziraphale nods frantically against his shoulder and puts his back into it, and Crowley shifts his hips just enough and  _ oh. _

“Fuck,  _ yes _ ! Right there, oh God.” Crowley’s voice has gone up an octave out of desperation, and he sends out a silent thank you to the universe for Aziraphale not taking the opportunity to chastise him for taking the Lord’s name in vain.

He feels like he could come at any moment but Aziraphale beats him to it, seizing up and spilling inside him with a breathless moan. He fucks Crowley through it until he’s soft and spent, pulling out and flopping over onto his side.

“Dear, that was—” Aziraphale’s post-coital praise is cut off when he realizes that Crowley is still flushed and panting, drawing his fingers through the slick mess leaking out of him and up to his clit. “Oh, goodness, you haven’t— here, let me.”

Crowley barely registers the movement until he feels Aziraphale’s tongue on his clit and his fingers fucking into him. He wails as the angel’s tongue delves down to join his fingers then back up to flick mercilessly at his clit, and the thought of Aziraphale tasting himself is what brings Crowley over the edge. He comes in waves around Aziraphale’s fingers, and the angel keeps licking him until he’s overstimulated and shoving at Aziraphale’s head with an exasperated giggle. He revels in the feeling of being debauched— wet slick and come dripping down his thighs, hair in disarray, ass warm and red from a thorough lashing.

“Lovely,” Aziraphale says with a grin. “Would you like to clean up the quick way or the old fashioned way?”

“Does the old fashioned way involve me sucking you off in the shower?” Crowley matches his grin with a more devious one.

“My dear, you are insatiable,” says Aziraphale with a click of his tongue. He tries to look disapproving, but it’s less effective when he scoops Crowley into his arms and carries him to the bathroom.


End file.
